


Christmastide

by somehowunbroken



Series: Kids'verse [3]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-10
Updated: 2010-09-10
Packaged: 2017-10-11 15:51:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/114059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somehowunbroken/pseuds/somehowunbroken
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: schmoop_bingo: 'baby's first holiday/celebration.' It's the twins' first Christmas. Christmas-y things ensue. Sequel to A Perfect Family.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Christmastide

Evan wasn’t even thinking about it until David brought it up.

“I know it seems kind of silly and pretty impractical, but it’s going to be their first Christmas in a little over a month.” David was folding a scrap of clothing so tiny that Evan wasn’t even sure what it was; it could have been one of Robbie’s shirts or one of Angel’s skirts. He really had no idea.

“Christmas,” Evan repeated. How could he have forgotten about Christmas?

“Yeah,” David continued, oblivious to Evan’s thoughts. “It seems a little silly, because they won’t remember it – I mean, they’ll be three months old – but I’d like to celebrate, you know.” He hesitated. “As a family.”

Evan smiled at him easily. He knew that David still felt like this was, somehow, not permanent, like Evan was going to wake up one day and realize that his partner wasn’t a woman and that he had two children he’d never asked for. Evan didn’t know how to reassure him, to let him know that it wasn’t going to happen, that he might not have expected this but he was definitely happy where he was.

“Sounds good,” he said instead of articulating those thoughts. “I can probably wrangle Sheppard into okaying a small tree for us in here, if you want.” There was a space near the windows that would frame the tree out nicely, he thought as he surveyed the space. They’d have to move the kitchen table into the sitting area, but it would only be for a week, maybe two. It was doable.

David’s face broke into a relieved smile. “I’d like that.” He continued to fold the laundry in the basket, sorting it into four piles as he went. It was technically unnecessary; the twins’ clothing was mostly interchangeable, since they were still so small, but David seemed to like separating the tiny garments and giving each child exactly the same number of one-piece sleepers and tiny white socks. “I’m going to use some of my personal allotment on the next Daedalus run for some gifts.” He hesitated again as he fished the last of the clothing from the basket. “I’ve already talked to Colonel Sheppard, and he’s going to take care of signing off on my forms and submitting them. Please don’t peek.”

Oh. Presents for him, then. Evan nodded, brain scrambling, because he was an idiot for not thinking of this before. What was he going to get for David?

Just then, though, Angel started to whimper in her crib, and Robbie soon echoed her sentiments, and the parents were busy fixing bottles and feeding their children. By the time nappies were sorted out and the babies were sleeping again, the topic of conversation had shifted, and Evan had almost forgotten about it completely.

-0-

He remembered it the next day, though, when he got to the office and found a stack of personal items requisition forms on his desk from various members of the expedition, military and civilian alike. Most were for what he suspected were holiday gifts, and most were even allowed on base this year (unlike last year, when he’d turned down a record 268 requests, mostly from Marines who thought that explosives were a great gag gift). He set the few he’d have to deal with aside and signed through the rest of them absently, wondering what he should put on his own form, what he’d get sent through.

Finally, distractions dealt with, Evan stared down at his own requisition form. He’d put a few things on it for the twins – baby toys, mostly, or things that he’d heard would make your kid smarter or happier or things like that – and wondered what to get for David. He was still wondering almost an hour later when Sergeant Briggs knocked on his door, handing him another pile of the forms.

“Sorry, sir,” he apologized as he handed them over. “I know they were due in by 1700 yesterday, but I was still trying to decide what to get for my wife.” Briggs was married to one of the social scientists, a pretty blonde linguist named Leslie that David knew. “It took hours, especially since she was around for most of the time that I was trying to work it out.” Briggs rolled his eyes and smiled, affection clear in the gesture.

“It’s fine, Sergeant,” Evan said, accepting the forms. “I’m still not done with mine, and I only ever get McKay’s as I’m getting ready to beam them all up to the Daedalus anyway.”

Briggs grinned and jerked his head towards the paper that Evan had only half-filled out. “Baby things?” he asked, voice understanding. He and Leslie didn’t have any kids of their own, but the couple had watched the twins a few times; apparently they both came from big families. They’d actually been quite helpful right after the twins were born, helping Evan and David adjust to life as parents.

“Yeah,” Evan admitted. “Mostly. I’m ordering copies of some of those videos you told me about, and that series of books Leslie keeps mentioning.”

“Good choices,” Briggs approved. “Just so you know, Major, you can probably expect gifts from some of the expedition members. They’ll all want the chance to ooh and aah over the kids’ first holiday celebration.”

Evan blinked. Yet another thing he hadn’t thought of. “That’s really not necessary,” he began, but Briggs shook his head.

“You just signed off on most of their forms, sir,” he pointed out, and Evan looked at the stack of completed forms with renewed interest. His scans though the requested items were for things like cherry bombs or bottle rockets, not for items that were, for the most part, innocuous. It was entirely possible that he’d signed off on gifts for his own children without even realizing it. “And honestly, sir, I don’t think you’d be able to stop it if you wanted to. People are pretty devious when it comes to making kids happy.”

This Evan had noticed. Gifts had been popping up in his quarters since a month before the twins were born. They’d included everything from nappies to clothing to toys, some of Earth design and some from Pegasus. He and David hadn’t had to purchase much on their own so far. Teyla had smiled when Evan related this to her and confided that the same had happened when Torren was small. “It was as if everyone in Atlantis felt that he was, in some way, theirs,” she had offered. “They all cherished him.” It was the same with Robbie and Angel.

“Anyway, sir,” Briggs was continuing, and Evan snapped out of his thoughts. “I’ll leave you to it.”

Evan sighed as Briggs left, looking down at the forms in front of him again, alternating between the ones Briggs had just brought and his own. An idea began to form, and he tapped his radio. “Colonel Sheppard, Teyla, what are your locations?”

-0-

The tree was set up right where Evan had imagined it, sitting in the kitchen area. Evan had managed to get some lights smuggled onto the Daedalus, along with a few small boxes of kid-proof ornaments; the twins were nowhere big enough to be causing any damage to the tree, but they’d grow, and Evan figured it was better to just order the safe ones now. He and David had had a good time decorating the tree and drinking hot chocolate; for once, the seasons on New Lantea and Earth had aligned, and it would be cold in Atlantis for Christmas. There might even be snow.

Now, a small pile of gifts sat beneath the tree. Evan had purposely kept his gifts for David out of the pile, and after a not-so-casual inspection of the pile, found that David had done the same with his. It was a week before Christmas, and Evan was spending the evening with David and their children for once, having arranged it so he could take the evening off.

The twins were getting bigger; there was no doubt about that. They’d been born small, which Carson had assured them was perfectly normal for twins, but they’d put on weight since they were born, now weighing in at around eleven pounds each. They were also beginning to show their individual personalities; Robbie was usually the first to spook, the first to cry, while Angel seemed more sedate with the world around her. Both lit up when they heard Evan come home at the end of his shift, smiling and giggling their little baby laughs. Evan suspected that they did the same for David and wished he could be around to see it.

He was ridiculously, deliriously happy.

Predictably, Robbie startled awake when the door chimes went off, while Angel simply looked around the room. Evan stood and padded over to the door in his socks, Robbie in one arm, hoping that it wasn’t Sheppard telling him that there was some emergency, that he’d have to leave his family and go back to work. He almost groaned out lout when it was, indeed, Sheppard on the other side of the door.

“Don’t look so happy to see me, Major,’ Sheppard said dryly, leaning against the door. “I might get a complex.”

Evan managed a weak smile. “Let me put Robbie to bed, sir,” he said, resigned. “And grab some shoes.”

“Relax, Lorne,” Sheppard said, giving Evan a half-smile. “Everything’s fine. The City’ll run without you for tonight, Scout’s honor.”

“Sir?” It wasn’t like Evan thought the City needed him every hour of every day – there were other capable people here who could take care of Atlantis – but some days it felt like he was always on duty.

Robbie made a discontented sound from Evan’s arms, and Sheppard glanced down, a small, private smile softening his face as he reached out to touch the baby on the arm. “Hey there, little guy,” he said, in what was probably his talking-to-babies voice. It sounded goofy. Evan shifted back and Sheppard pulled his hand back like he’d been stung, but Evan was smiling when Sheppard looked up at him.

“Come in,” he offered, and Sheppard entered, the door closing behind them.

David was standing in the kitchen, warming milk for the twins’ bedtime bottles. Angel was in her bassinet nearby, and Evan led Sheppard into the sitting area, gesturing to the couch. Sheppard sat in the easy chair instead, and Evan settled on the couch, just to Sheppard’s right. Robbie was squirming now, and Evan discreetly checked his nappy before looking back at Sheppard, who was staring at Robbie with that quiet little smile on his face again.

“Want to hold him?” Evan offered, and Sheppard’s grin brightened for a second before he fought to control it.

“Sure,” Sheppard said, arms opening and tucking the tiny child against his chest with more ease than Evan thought he’d have. “Hey, Robbie.”

Robbie looked up at Sheppard, gave him a slobbery baby smile, and proceeded to blow a snot bubble on Sheppard’s shirt. Evan jumped up, horrified, but Sheppard just shot him a grin and grabbed a baby rag off the back of the couch to dab at the spot.

“I like kids,” he offered as an explanation, which didn’t really explain anything, but Evan supposed that was Sheppard’s nature. “Since I started – well – I’ve spent a lot more time around them lately.” He shifted Robbie so he was sitting in his arms. “Not too likely that I’ll have any of my own, y’know, so I have to spoil my honorary nieces and nephews.” He grinned at Evan, who was trying very, very hard not to be shell-shocked.

“With all due respect on that topic, sir, I pretty much thought the same thing until about nine months ago,” he pointed out instead of letting his jaw drop.

“True,” Sheppard agreed, looking at Robbie, then at Angel as David walked back into the room, expertly balancing the baby in one arm and two bottles in the other. “As I understand it, though, both parties actually have to be present for it to work, so I think I’m safe from that.”

“That’s what you think,” David said cheerily, handing one of the bottles to Sheppard, who adjusted Robbie again and started feeding him. “Then, bam, you’re pregnant with twins.”

Sheppard just smiled at Robbie, who blinked back up at him around the bottle. “I guess life just catches you off-guard some days, huh?”

Evan snorted. “We live in the Pegasus Galaxy. The days I’m not caught off-guard catch me off-guard.”

“Point,” Sheppard agreed, looking up at Evan ad David with a grin. “On that note, I did stop by for a reason.”

“Did you now?” Evan asked dryly. “Good to know you weren’t just here to put my kids to bed for me.”

“Had to make sure you were up for the responsibility,” Sheppard shot back. There was a grain of truth in it, though, and Evan remembered back to the first couple of weeks after they’d been released from the infirmary, when Sheppard or Teyla or Ronon had come by every evening, supposedly not to check up on them. Evan had been grateful for it nonetheless. It had been reassuring to know that there would be people watching their backs on this, just like they would on any mission.

“You were saying?” Evan continued.

Sheppard managed a move that left no doubt in Evan’s mind that he’d served in Special Ops, holding the baby and the bottle steady while fishing in his jacket for an envelope, which he tossed to Evan. Robbie didn’t even have to break his rhythm. “Merry Christmas.”

Evan looked at the envelope. It was plain white, no writing, and contained a single sheet of paper, folded into thirds. Evan opened it and scanned its contents quickly. It was an email, addressed to Sheppard, and Evan read the few lines four times before slowly moving the paper to his lap and looking almost uncomprehendingly at Sheppard, who was grinning like an idiot.

“Evan?” David prompted, and he lifted the letter again and held it up for David to read.

_From: cam.mitchell@sgc.af.mil  
To: john.sheppard@sgc.af.mil  
Subject: Your weekly status report from the Milky Way_

I’m hoping that none of this is a surprise to you by this point, but I figured I should let you know that I think you’re absolutely amazing, incredibly hot, and I’m stupid in love with you.

Also, they officially repealed DADT as of yesterday, so stop hyperventilating. Neither of us is about to lose our job.

There’s other news but none of it’s important. Come Earthside after the New Year. I’ll tell you then.

Cam

“Oh,” David replied, astonished. “That means – oh.”

Sheppard was still grinning like a loon, and Evan glanced from him to the paper to David, a smile blossoming on his own face. “That means that it’s no longer illegal to do this,” he informed David, leaning in to kiss him chastely over him feeding Angel. “Among other things,” he added softly, for David’s ears only, sitting back in his seat.

“The official announcement will go out tomorrow,” Sheppard said. “I figured you guys would want to know tonight, though.”

“Yeah,” Evan replied, eyes bright and happy. “Thank you, sir.”

Sheppard grinned and stood, handing Robbie back over. “Don’t thank me yet,” he advised, tossing the baby rag onto Evan’s shoulder and setting the bottle down. “I did the fun part. You get to burp him and change the nappies.”

Evan laughed. He could handle that.

-0-

Christmas was an absolute blur. Evan was on duty early in the morning, for once, and David had managed to swing his schedule so they’d be off the same hours in the afternoon (Evan suspected that Sheppard had forced McKay’s hand, and was grateful); they’d left the twins with Leslie Briggs, who was more than happy to watch them while both parents were off at work. Evan made sure that her husband would have the afternoon and evening off as well, and walked with the man back to his quarters to gather up his kids at shift change.

“Major,” Sergeant Briggs called up as Evan was leaving, baby bag slung over one shoulder and a child in each arm. He was glad he lived nearby. The twins would coon be too big for this, and Evan was dreading it for two reasons; one, he’d have to buy a stroller to walk his kids around the City, and two, they’d be a little bit bigger, a little bit less dependant on him, and he didn’t want to lose that, not yet. For now, though, he waited in Briggs’ doorway as the man approached him with a small box wrapped in blue paper. “Merry Christmas.”

“Oh,” Evan said, surprised that he was surprised. Briggs had been the one to tell him that people would probably get presents for the twins. “Thanks, Briggs, Leslie. Um,” he paused, trying to adjust his load. “Can I swing by for it later?”

Briggs laughed and reached out, taking Robbie from him and holding the package in the other hand. “I’ll walk you back.”

Evan was surprised again when they reached his quarters; there was a veritable mountain of gifts by the door, wrapped in shiny reds and golds and greens (and one in the funny pages from the newspaper, he was amused to see). “Oh,” Evan repeated. “I… really wasn’t expecting that.”

Briggs laughed again and stepped over the pile, walking in to set Robbie in his bassinet. “Get your girl settled,” he called. “I’ll start on these.”

By the time David arrived fifteen minutes later, Evan and Briggs had managed to get all of the gifts inside. David stopped short as he entered the sitting room. “Oh.”

“That’s what I said,’ Evan replied, stepping back to inspect the pile. It was as massive as he’d thought. “Thanks, Briggs. Can I get you anything?”

Briggs just shook his head and walked towards the door. “Merry Christmas, sir,” he said, walking out and shutting the door behind him.

“They were stacked outside,” Evan explained as David put his work things away and changed out of his uniform. “Briggs helped me haul them all inside.”

“We’re going to be opening boxes all day,” David observed. “And none of them are even for us.”

Evan grinned. “Sounds like fun to me.”

They divided the pile, each making a careful list of who had brought them which gift, so thank-you notes could be sent later. The gifts ranged from the mundane (nappies and jumpers from the Infirmary staff) to the useful (clothing in various sizes and styles, for when the twins grew more) to the amusing (McKay had recorded lectures about algebra, which began with a monologue about how Teyla had told him not to give them quantum physics because it hadn’t done anything for Torren, so he’d gone with something easier). By the time they were done, the list included nearly every name on Atlantis.

“Wow.” David sounded a little choked up, and as Evan glanced over, he saw his partner’s eyes shining. “This is amazing.”

Evan slid an arm around David’s shoulders. “Teyla pointed out that the expedition claims kids as communal property,” he reminded David. “We’re lucky.”

David choked out something between a sniffle and a laugh. “We have the best extended family ever.”

“We do,” Evan agreed. “We really do.”

David sniffled again and smiled brightly. “Hey, time for our gifts,” he said, standing to retrieve the things they’d set under their tree. Evan picked Robbie up and settled him in his lap; David did the same with Angel to Evan’s left. They opened each other’s gifts for their kids. Evan watched as David unwrapped the videos and books that Evan had ordered, and saw David smile as he opened plush toys and brightly colored crib sheets. The kids were entranced by the bright wrapping paper, the crinkling sound it made, and Evan and David spent almost half an hour playing with the paper, watching as the babies’ faces beamed with glee and happy sounds fell from their mouths.

David stood after a while, leaving and coming back with a large box. It wasn’t wrapped, and Evan blinked at it while David shrugged. “Merry Christmas,” he said, smiling gently.

“How did you manage to get all this on the Daedalus?” he asked, torn between incredulous and impressed. “Caldwell’s pretty strict about obeying the weight limit.”

David shrugged. “Traded for some other people’s space,” he admitted. “Also, some of it’s from closer to home.” He smiled. “Go on, open it.”

The box was filled to the brim with art supplies that made Evan gasp. There was a roll of heavy canvas, wood for mounting it, sketchbooks, oils, watercolors, charcoals, acrylics, pastels, brushes. There were jars with substances Evan couldn’t identify, and David carefully explained what each contained; many were pigments and dyes from worlds that Atlantis traded with, and one set, in jars with silver lids, were paints that David had made himself from plants he’d come across in their years in the City. Evan was astonished by the variety and the thoughtfulness of the gift, and his fingers trailed across the canvas, his mind already planning what he’d paint, what he’d create.

Evan pushed the box away after a time, mind reeling with possibilities. “Thank you,” he breathed, leaning over to kiss David. “Thank you so much.”

“I’m glad you like it,” David replied, uncharacteristically shy. “It took some thinking.”

“I’ll say,” Evan agreed, standing. He went to his dresser and pulled out two much smaller boxes, returning and handing the larger one to David first. The brilliant grin on his face as he opened the small digital camera was almost blinding.

“I know how much you love recording your plants in the field,” Evan explained. “Figured you’d want to do the same for the kids.”

David opened the box and pulled the camera out, searching for the battery charger. Evan grinned and reached to the table, pulling the already-charged battery from its cord, attached to his laptop.

David smiled. “Ah, you know me so well,” he teased, turning the camera on and snapping a picture of Evan. Evan let him play for a few minutes, taking pictures of the kids and the tree and their quarters, before clearing his throat.

David set the camera to the side expectantly, looking at the other box that Evan was now turning over and over in his hands. It was almost perfectly square, and Evan hesitated before he started talking.

“You said – when Robbie and Angel were born,” he began softly, recalling the scene. “You said they should have my name.”

“I still think that,” David said softly.

“I know.” Evan swallowed. “You told me you’d change your name, too. You don’t have to,” he hurried to add, and David’s eyes widened to a point of near-comedy. “But we’re a family, and I thought…” He trailed off as David closed his eyes, panic setting in. He snapped his jaw shut and sat very, very still while David breathed in and out.

“Evan,” he asked very quietly, “are you asking me to marry you?”

“Um,” Evan replied. “Yes?”

“And you were planning on it even before Colonel Sheppard gave us the news last week?” David’s eyes were still closed.

“Yeah,” Evan confessed. “I talked to Sheppard about it a month ago, and asked Teyla if she’d officiate. I had it all planned out.”

“God,” David said, opening his eyes. “Of course, Evan. Of course.” He was smiling and Evan saw how bright his eyes were, shining with happiness and tears, as he leaned in to kiss him.

“And I’ll change my name,” David added with a laugh as he pulled back. “Or hyphenate it.”

“It’s up to you,” Evan promised as he had all those months ago, chest tightening as he glanced down to where their children were laying. Robbie was slobbering on some wrapping paper while Angel chewed thoughtfully on a new stuffed octopus, and as Evan looked back to David’s face, he realized that he’d never been happier in his life.


End file.
